21 Guns
by N-Rambler
Summary: The Volturi are back and this time they mean business. But what happens when they meet an even greater threat to their existence than a growing coven? A war is long over due, a dark hunter is re-born, and Salem is to stubborn to be left out of the action.
1. Introduction

**21 Guns**

**A Crossover**

**A love story between a young girl and a werewolf.**

_In that moment between life and death, I realized that I couldn't live with out him. I loved him and nothing was going to change that. _

**A skilled and long forgotten hunter**

_"Alice?"_

_She looked up at me. Her brown eyes filled with confusion and fear. The ashes of the rouge vampire lay scattered at her feet._

**A fight for their lives**

_I watched as they walked calmly towards us to deliver our death. I was filled with rage as they drew near. _

_They say that anger is hot, I beg to differ. _

_Anger is cold, ice cold. _

**Written by Silver-Fang **

**Coming Soon**


	2. Chapter 1

**Here we are, chapter one of 21 Guns. Enjoy. Review, I really want reviews. Tell me what you think.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga or Army of T.W.O or Call of Duty. There I said it. **

**Seriously review, I want reviews. I won't update till I get at least five. **

**I'm not kidding. Well I think that's about it.**

**Enjoy**

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"Dad!" I screamed, staring at the bare counter, "Elliot!"

Within seconds of my outburst, my father and Elliot burst through the door of the bathroom, like two rhinos fighting to get through the door. They looked terrified and worried, and if I hadn't been so angry I would have laughed.

"What?" Elliot asked urgently, beating my dad through the door, He was wearing one of those white sleeveless t-shirts, showing off the various tattoos covering his arms. He grabbed me by the shoulders, examining my body for any injuries, "What happened?"

"Where are my hair dyes?" I screeched, jabbing my finger at the empty sink counter.

Elliot gaped at me, "You screamed bloody murder for a bunch of hair products?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice high and squeaky, "I'm going brown, I have to touch up." I added, pointing at my roots.

He squinted at my short, jagged hair and walked over to me, grabbed my head and tilted it down for a better look, "You sure? How can you tell?"

I rolled my eyes and wiggled out of his grip, "I can just tell, okay."

"Now where are they?" I asked again waving my arms. I looked at my dad, standing in the doorframe. He looked guilty.

My dad and Elliot were pretty big guys. They were private military contractors or PMC's for short, because all army people feel the need to abbreviate everything. My dad started his very own PMC with the help of Alice Murray, their mission's coordinator. He called it Trans World Operations or T.W.O for short. Thanks to a few years in the Army and two years in T.W.O they were huge muscled gorillas.

Elliot Salem was my dad's best friend and my godfather. He had black hair and pale skin; he was a little less buff than my dad, but just as menacing.

Elliot is the cool laid back man in the family. He curses a lot and acts like a kid. He taught me how to shoot a machine gun when I was seven, much to my father's dismay. Elliot taught me how to field strip a weapon blind folded and in the dark within thirty seconds. He also taught me how to use every kind of gun they had encountered on their missions.

My dad, on the other hand, was a terrifying beast. He was built like a Mack truck and has a web of scars on the right side of his face, the result of an explosion he narrowly survived. The scares made him look like a professional killer but hid his soft cotton candy center. He stood there, in the doorway of the bathroom, a ruthless killer, looking sheepish and guilty. Sometimes it's hard to believe that I'm his daughter. I'm so small compared to both of them.

My dad, Tyson Rios, has two sides. His tough army side that taught me kick boxing and three different types of Martial arts when I was nine. That's the side that goes on top secret missions to blow things up. Then there was the side that spoiled me rotten, and my mother fell in love with.

Me, I'm Salem Rios. I'm barely five foot with purple hair and green eyes. My dad and my Elliot raised me for as long as I can remember. My mother died of cancer when I was three and my dad says I look just like her.

"Daddy?" I whined, "What did you do?"

He cleared his throat, and averted his gaze. Elliot laughed leaning against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Jeez Tys," He said chuckling, "what _did_ you do?"

"I threw them away." He said gruffly, still not looking at me.

I stared at him, my mouth open and my eyes wide.

"WHAT?" I screeched; Elliot laughed.

"I thought they were done!" My dad said defensively shrugging his shoulders.

"They were still half full." I squealed.

"Calm down Salem," My godfather said, still laughing, "We'll just go buy some more. This town cannot be that small," he said, emphasizing the "cannot'.

We had move just a few days ago to the outskirts of Forks Washington. Just outside a small Indian reservation called La Push. My dad and Elliot thought it would be best if they moved to a place where I could be safe and live like a normal kid.

To bad I'm not what anyone would call normal. My Dad and Elliot are the two best mercenaries in the country. They are always going on missions to foreign countries and naturally, since they were killing people, I couldn't come along. They tried it once when I was twelve, they took me to India. But I had a nasty run in with a psychopathic gunman in a market and it didn't end well… for him.

And that put an end to that. Both Dad and Elliot were too paranoid to leave me alone anywhere after the idiot shot me in the shoulder. So they looked into small towns with low crime rates, popped a U-haul, and drove from Brooklyn up to Forks.

Already I miss Brooklyn. Though it wasn't easy to make friends when the guys you live with look like my Dad and Elliot, though I can safely say I turned out all right. I really didn't need friends; a family of mercenaries was enough for me.

Elliot and my dad spent an ample amount of time with me when they were home. And I'm completely happy, except for when they throw away my hair dyes.

"Fine," I snapped.

"But you're paying for it," I added, jabbing my finger at Elliot's chest, it was like stabbing a rock with a straw.

"What?" He asked indignantly, "I didn't even touch them."

"Doesn't matter," I said, "You let my dad touch them so you pay."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "That's just twisted logic Salem."

I stormed out of the bathroom, "Let's go, Dad, you're driving," I called, grabbing the car keys from the kitchen counter.

They followed me out and I tossed the keys into the air behind me. I heard one of them catch it and walked out the door and down to the shiny car in driveway.

The car Alice got for us was sleek, shiny and red. She obviously had Elliot in mind when she found it.

Alice Murray is the T.W.O mission coordinator. She helped Elliot and my dad when they went away on their missions. She hacked into computers, opened doors, and sent them information using small cameras and microphones installed in their helmets.

After India I stayed at her place and helped her out. She and I got on great; she's like an older sister. She took me to get a tattoo once. The night before we were going to move, she decided that we had to have some girl to girl bonding at a tattoo parlor. Dad and Elliot were in Miami. She got hell from my dad about it but I ended up with barbed wire inked around my ankle. I chuckled at the memory.

"Man, Tys," Elliot exclaimed when he saw the car, "Alice hooked us up all right!"

"Damn," came my dad's dumbfounded reply.

"What kind of car is it?" I asked curiously.

"It's a Saleen Mustang." Elliot said, dreamily rushing to the car. He ran his hand over the glossy red paint job tenderly. I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

"I'm driving," He said forcefully.

"Fine, just find the closest convenience store," Dad said, throwing the keys at him, "and no daredevil crap, I want to get there and back without a ticket. We have to lay low here."

"Yes," Elliot hissed, catching the keys and opening the door in one fluid movement. One thing that hasn't rubbed off from my godfather to me was his knowledge of cars.

Elliot rebuilt my Dodge Super Bee when we were living in Brooklyn. Unfortunately we had to stuff her in a storage garage. But I would get her back soon. Alice was driving down from New York to help us settle in. She was stopping at the garage and driving from Brooklyn up here with my Bee.

I slid into the back of the car as Elliot jumped in and started it. He groaned happily when the engine purred to life smoothly. My dad clambered into the passenger seat and buckled up.

"Hey, I've been looking for those," Elliot said, swiping a pair of sunglasses off the dash. Alice probably found them. He turned around in his seat, winking at me as he slid the shades on, and backed out of the spot.

Sitting in the same car with Elliot when he was driving was absolutely terrifying. He drove like a mad man. I spent the whole drive being tossed around in the back seat,

bouncing back from one side to another, and listening to him laugh like a kid on Christmas.

When Elliot finally stopped the car I looked out the window, the landscape was all green. The trees, the ground, even the rocks, were all covered in a lush green. The sky was gray and gloomy. It was going to rain. I had a random thought as to why Elliot needed the sunglasses, but it was Elliot after all. He didn't need a reason.

I sighed as I slid back out of the mustang, a bit clumsily. I was still dizzy from the car ride.

Elliot stepped out of the car looking all cool and collected, swinging the door shut like they do in the movies. He turned to me and peered over the rim of his glasses. I glared at him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. He chuckled and winked.

"You should have worn your seat belt sweetie," He said, and turned around, walking to the small store on the other side of the parking lot. I rolled my eyes and sighed again, following after him. My dad came out from the other side and joined us.

The store Elliot had found was small and well lit. A group of teenagers were gathered in front of the store. They were huddled around a small girl dressed in a uniform who, I assumed, worked at the store. She was small, but taller than I was, and she had shoulder length brown hair and tan skin like her friends. I met her gaze for a second and then the whole group turned to look at me.

They were a bunch of locals. One of them had an arm draped over the girl's shoulder. They were all shirtless. I wrinkled my nose, why the hell they wanted to parade around shirtless was beyond me. It was freezing and about to rain, if they wanted to show off they were crazy. At least Elliot had a shirt on.

The biggest of the group stared at me, assessing me, like he was sizing me up. I frowned at him when I met his gaze. He ignored me and looked up at Elliot and my Dad, who were walking behind me, oblivious to the glances they were getting.

They were making me really uncomfortable and I was relived when we entered the store. It was really bright and clean inside. It was cold too.

"Okay Salem, lead us to your holy hair products," Elliot said. I rolled my eyes. Like I'm gonna know where they are in here.

"This way guys," My dad said, leading us down a few isles till we found the hair dye. I raised an eyebrow at him. He lifted a finger at the ceiling and I looked up. A white sign hung above the isle with the words 'Hair Care' written in big red letters.

"Oh," Elliot and I said at the same time. He had looked up with me.

"Well, take your pick, Sale," He said, using my nickname, "I'm going to find something good for dinner."

Dad left, leaving me with Elliot. I turned to the colorful boxes and examined my choices.

Eventually, I ended up narrowing my selection too two brands of lilac. I felt Elliot look over my shoulder.

"That's a bit lighter than your color now, isn't it?" He asked.

I snorted. That was a bit of an understatement. My current color was a deep purple and they didn't have that color.

"They don't have it," I said simply.

"Oh." He said, retreating back to the other side of the isle, leaving me to mull over the two brands.

My dad rounded a corner holding a few bags and walking over to us, "They had Ben and Jerry ice-cream so I bought a few tubs of those."

He went on and on about the food he bought, I ignored him and simply decided on both brands of lilac. I also swiped a blue and a green dye off the shelves.

I turned to look at them, shifting the boxes in my arms so they wouldn't fall, "Ok," I said, interrupting dad's speech about food, "I'm done."

"Finally," Elliot gasped, exasperated, leading the way to the cashier. It was the girl from the front. She smiled at me when I dumped my boxes on the counter. It was a weird smile, almost secretive, like she knew something I didn't.

I ignored the thought and smiled back. I turned to Elliot, holding my hand out expectantly.

"Come on Sale," He pleaded.

I shook my head and curled and uncurled my fingers twice, "Hand it over."

He sighed and pulled his credit card out of his pocket and practically threw it at me. I smiled smugly, taking a gum packet from the rack next to the register and adding it to my pile. I swiped the card and punched in the pin number and gave the card back to Elliot. He snatched it away and stuffed it back in his pocket, frowning like a little kid. I chuckled. The girl rung up all my stuff and handed me my bag and a receipt, the all knowing smile still intact.

I thanked her and followed my dad out the door. I looked back over my shoulder and saw her staring at me with that smile plastered on her face. I resisted the urge to run back there, grab her by the shoulders and ask her what the hell she was smiling at. I rubbed my nose and sniffed.

It was a nervous habit of mine. When I get nervous or uncomfortable I rubbed my nose, my Dad said my mom used to do it.

Only three of the tall, tan guys were still outside, they glanced uneasily at my dad and Elliot as we walked by. I looked over at them and they all turned to me. The small smile that the cashier had worn was slowly making it's way up their faces. They were smiling like they knew some big secret.

I caught the eye of the youngest one and he smiled so widely I suddenly felt self-conscious. I sniffed and rubbed my nose nervously. What the heck was wrong with these people?

I looked away quickly, freaked out, and quickened my pace. I reached the car before Elliot had even pulled out the keys. I yanked on the handle impatiently. I felt like I was in the middle of a really bad horror movie.

"The car's open now, Sale." Elliot called from the driver's side, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shook my head to clear it and, opened the car door and slid inside, dumping my bag of hair products on the seat beside me. This time I buckled myself up, and Elliot pulled out of the parking lot, speeding down the road that led us home.

The house we bought was really tiny; it was painted a dark shade of mahogany. I ran straight in when the car came to a stop, bringing my plastic bag with me. I was still freaking out about the smiles.

When you first walk into the house all you see is the kitchen, the living room and dining room, there's a doorway in the back to a small hallway that leads to all the rooms. The living room was on your right and it had a large couch, or as large as a couch could be in a house this small. It had a new plasma flat screen, complete with a DVR and three gaming systems. That was Alice's gift to Elliot. The kitchen was on your left behind the dinning room, half hidden behind a waist high counter. It was stocked with everything that a grade 'A' cook could ask for. That was Alice's gift to my dad.

The rooms were all stuffed in a back hallway, side by side.

My room was relatively small and cramped, and it overlooked the backyard and the woods beyond the property line. I was a little disappointed at first, but dad said I could paint the room whatever color I wanted to, so that evened out nicely. Elliot's room was on my left and my Dad's room was on my right. His room was across from the only bathroom in the house.

I ran straight to the bathroom and closed the door. I opened the bag and dumped the boxes on the counter, examining each color, and trying to decide on one.

I ended up choosing the blue so I applied it, following the directions that I had all but memorized. When I had finished I was officially a blue head.

I ran my fingers through my new blue hair and laughed. I looked like a blueberry.

Satisfied with my hair, I started putting everything away. I stuffed the unopened boxes under the sink and put the extra blue dye in the medicine cabinet for later.

I snatched the gum packet and the plastic bag off the counter and walked into the kitchen, smelling food.

My dad was cooking. He works miracles with the stove, and taught me everything he knows. He looked up at my entrance and smiled.

"Nice hair Salem," He laughed, "it looks good."

"Thanks." I said, opening the gum packet and popping a piece in my mouth.

Elliot looked up from the video game he was playing, "Looks good Sale."

I smiled, and walked over to him, leaning on the back of the couch, "What are you playing?" I asked looking over his shoulder.

"Call of Duty," He said, his eyes gluing themselves back to the TV screen, "grab a controller he's kicking my ass."

I laughed and climbed over the couch and sat down. He paused the game and handed me a black controller. I switched it on and began playing.

We played together till Dad finished dinner; we spent the entire time yelling at the game.

"What the hell," I yelled as I was shot to death, throwing the controller at the ground, "I totally shot the guy."

Elliot laughed, still staring at the TV, "Don't blame the game for a lack of skill"

I glared at him, "Lack of skill my ass." I muttered, "Piece of crap."

Then I added louder so he could hear me, "You know, you can take that 'lake of skill' and shove it up your-"

"Salem," My dad boomed from behind me, I jumped, "watch the language."

I gapped at him over the back of the couch, "But you guys cuss all the time." I cried indignantly, sitting on my knees, they were such hypocrites.

They cursed all the time on the battlefield. I should know. When I stayed at Alice's place while they were out their blowing stuff up, I would help her with whatever she needed. She had installed a camera and a microphone into their war helmets so they could communicate back and forth easily, so naturally she got full blast of their 'language'. I would always be in the room helping her hack into what ever they needed, Alice had taught me how, I've become quite good at it now. But being six at the time I repeated what I heard and the cussing was the only thing I really remembered.

"That's different." He said gruffly, leaning against the wall dividing the dining room and the kitchen.

"Different," I yelled, "how?"

"Different due to the fact that we're getting shot at out there," He said, matching my volume, "are you getting shot at Salem?"

I smiled, "Technically yes, I am." I said calmly, gesturing over my shoulder at the TV screen.

Elliot barked a laugh next to me. It was more like a bark than anything else, because he was still playing.

Dad chuckled, "Sit down and eat Sale," He said, "You too Elliot, shut off the game."

"Why?" Elliot whined, still playing.

I rolled my eyes and climbed back over the couch, "Come on Elliot." I said, sitting at the table and serving myself some mashed potatoes.

He sighed and shut off the PS3, trudging over to the table. He sat down on my left and Dad sat down after him and we all dug in.

Dad and Elliot started talking about sniper rifles and I gave my opinion every once in a while, but I mainly just listened. I liked Elliot's M14, but my favorite was my dad's M107 Light 50. It's a sniper rifle. I saw it in action once, when my Dad and Elliot were on a mission in Miami. They were still working for the SSC at the time and I was at Alice's place. They had to take out a chopper that held a whole bunch of terrorists.

When they came home I got to shoot it at one of the army bases. It was so much fun, and so much better than bungee jumping.

I had my own guns but they were mainly pistols and shotguns. I wanted an M107 but I had a very bad temper so they didn't trust me with anything bigger than a machine gun, let alone a Sniper Rifle. I have three guns.

My dad bought me my favorite and only pistol, a Deagle from their Secondary arms dealer . I also have a FSPS-12, a shot gun and a gift from Alice when I turned 14. Elliot bought me a shot gun too,

I was saving up to buy the attachments, I almost had all of them. I was just missing a cartridge attachment for my Deagle, and a barrel attachment for my FSPS-12. Seeing as I lost the first set my dad bought me for my Deagle, Dad says I have to buy them all again for myself.

I chuckled, we were one messed up family. Alice included. But we were a family, however twisted and bizarre, a family non-the less.

We finished eating and my dad and I put away the dishes in the dishwasher, while Elliot went straight back to the play station to play Call of Duty. He continued the gun argument with my dad, yelling from the living room.

When the table was cleared I went to play multiplayer with him and kick his ass before I went to bed. We finished our game and went our separate ways, disappearing into our rooms. Yelling goodnight and crashing in our beds. I unpacked a white T-shirt and a pair of sweats and collapsed on the small bed that had been stuffed in a corner.

Nestling inside the covers I fell asleep to the howling of wolves somewhere in the forest.

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**A/N: Review. Seriously, I want at least five or Chapter two won't be posted. **

**Salem meets the wolves officially next chapter so review if you want me to update it.  
**


	3. Chapter 2: Part 1

A/N: Review and I'll update my other stories. haha. Well I wrote this one but it's not finished, so I'm putting in two parts. REVIEW!

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Alice arrived with my Super Bee a few days later. I was lying in the grass, soaking up the rare vitamin D that managed to seep through the clouds, when she jumped on me from out of nowhere.

I was bordering sleep peacefully, daydreaming with my headphones in, and listening to my music at top volume when her 6'3'' frame landed on me, knocking the breath out of me with a loud 'oomph.' When I looked up and saw her dark green eyes I was so happy to see her I screamed.

Dad and Elliot came barreling out of the house like the rhinoceroses they were, and found Alice and I squealing and hugging each other, jumping around like little kids.

Alice was the kind of woman who always turned heads. She could walk by a construction site and construction workers would fall of the scaffolding one by one. She had a way of carrying herself that just oozed sensuality that made other women jealous. She made you take a hint off your self-esteem whenever you were in the same room with her. I'll never know how my dad and Elliot never made it with her.

She is dependable, loyal, faithful, and smart. She really is the best at what she does and my Dad and Elliot wouldn't trade her for anything.

Especially Elliot, considering they have a thing for each other. The two dance around each other like two teens in high school. It was very annoying, considering the fact that I'm their attempted matchmaker. Neither of them will admit their feelings for each other, but I know these things.

So now I was back behind the wheel of my 1967 Dodge Cornet Super Bee, speeding down the road that led to town.

When Elliot had finished fixing up the engine and making it run, he had painted my car entirely by hand. I remember watching him slave all day over the hood or under the car at a small garage in Brooklyn. We had worked on this car for hours, me making sure I didn't touch anything for fear that I might blow it up and handing him his tools when he needed them, and Elliot working his magic on the engine.

We spent an entire summer working on it, and we would spend most of the day fixing it up. Elliot would lecture me on car parts and I would pretend to listen, then we would take a lunch break and go to Subway. Then we would finish up work for the day and head home and we would play video game with my dad till dinner. This was our cycle for most of my adolescent life in Brooklyn, we had finished the Super Bee when we decided to move to Forks but we had to leave it up in New York.

My stereo was blasting at top volume and Alice and I sang along. Loudly and very off key. She was giving me directions to a sports store that she saw on her drive up so I could buy my gun attachments. Dad and Elliot were picking up some bags at a clothing store that Alice and I stopped at and they were going to meet up with us later. I needed a barrel attachment for my FSPS-12 and a cartridge attachment for my Deagle.

After I had lost the first set of attachments for my Deagle at an army base in Afghanistan, my Dad refused to buy me another set. So, armed with my Dad's sleek, shiny, silver credit card I pulled into the parking lot of Newton's Olympic Outfitters.

It was a pretty big store, hunting was big around here, so there was no doubt that I would find what I needed.

Alice led the way through the automatic doors and scanned the isles for the gun department, while I jumped up and down excitedly beside her. I almost laughed at how out of place Alice looked in the store, with her tan, coppery skin in the middle of a sea of pale faces.

She wasted no time in dragging me to the very back of the store, straight to the gun display case. We peered through the glass at the AK-47 on display, when a blond haired man walked up behind us, wearing the fluorescent orange vest that all of the employees wore.

"Hello ladies," He said, in an annoyingly arrogant tone, "Can I help you?"

He said this mostly to Alice who turned on him in a second and smiled sweetly, using her feminine charms to their full extent.

"Yeah," She said, in a soft dreamlike tone, "Can we see that one?"

He smirked at her and pulled out a key ring, jingled it twice under our noses and unlocked the display. He pulled the rifle out of its glass cage and held it up to the light, turning it at different angles and examining it with a patronizing smirk.

"Now this baby's an AK-47, ladies. It pack quit a wallop, one of th most popular guns in the world you know," He said, puffing out his chest importantly, "The terrorists use it."

"Oh," Alice gasped, in the same girly tone, "Can I hold it?"

"Sure doll face, but be careful, these babies are heavy," He said nonchalantly, weighing the gun in his hands lightly. I rolled my eyes, as he handed the gun over to her carefully.

Alice took it greedily and he stepped closer, probably to show her how the gun worked.

Silly Newton's Olympic Outfitters employee, she knows more about that gun than you do.

"Now this is where the bullet comes out, so you don't want to point it at anyone, especially not yourself," He said in a slow tone, as if talking to a little kid, running his hand along the barrel, Alice was probably getting a kick out of this, "This is the trigger, so you don't want to put your finger on it the unless you ready to shoot."

She took a step back, her face going serious, and turned to the counter, field stripping it right then and there on the glass counter. Her hands were a blur as she took it apart in less than fourteen seconds, besting her previous record of seventeen seconds.

I looked up at his face; it had gone pale as if he had lost a little bit of his manhood. I chuckled and looked back at Alice.

When the gun was scattered, in pieces across the counter, she began to inspect each piece. She held them up to her eyes closely and balanced them carefully, a piece in each hand, comparing their weights.

When the gun had passed the inspection, either that or failed it miserably, she began to assemble it, her hands moving again so that they were a blur. When it was completely assembled she twirled it in her hands like gunnery sergeant at an exhibition, stopping it and pointing it at the blond man's chest so fast you could barely see how she had done it. She closed one eye, looked through the view finder and chuckled.

"I think I'll take this one Mike," She said, her voice still high and airy, "Now be a good little boy and wrap it up for me ok?" She said walking over to Mike and pinching his cheek. Just then my Dad and Elliot came in, carrying the four pink clothing bags we had asked them to pick up

"You guys done harassing the poor man?" Elliot asked, draping an arm over Mike's shoulders.

I looked up at Mike and started cracking up laughing.

He looked like he was about to pee his pants. Alice looked at me and winked, taking the gun and tossing it at Mike and asking him to ring it up for her. He caught it and stumbled backwards, his face still shocked. Elliot grabbed his shoulders, steadying him and

He walked around the counter after closing the display case, his face stark white.

"Hey Mike," I started, looking up at him, "Were do you guys keep the ammo?"

He swallowed nervously, his Adams apple bobbed under his chin. He pointed in a general direction about four isles over, "Just over there."

I nodded, "What about the attachments?"

Poor guy, he looked terrified. He cleared his throat, "We keep them in the same general area."

"Thanks," I said and walked away. Elliot followed me.

"Sale," He started, "What the hell did Alice do to the guy?"

I laughed and shook my head, "You should have been there, it was hilarious," I started, as we entered the first isle. He took one side and I took the other.

"She just field stripped that AK-47 in less than fourteen seconds," I said, laughing and bending down to get a good look at the bottom row. Elliot snorted and shook his head as he shifted through the boxes.

"She just doesn't know the meaning of 'low profile'." I laughed and straightened up, still searching.

"That's a bit of an understatement Elliot," I said, running my finger over a few boxes, reading their names, "Here's one."

I slid the box out and felt Elliot hover over my shoulder. It was the cartridge attachment for my Deagle, a 12-round extended magazine. Elliot took it from my hands and examined it as I kept looking.

"Hey, I found this to," He said absentmindedly handing me another box, as he examined the cartridge. I took it and squealed when I read the name.

It was barrel attachment for the Deagle, an EAC Brownie Closer V3. "You think dad will let me buy it?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh I bet he will," Alice said, strutting up the isle towards us, followed by my dad. She had the AK-47 wrapped in a green plastic bag and casually slung over her shoulder.

I looked at my dad, he nodded smiling.

"Great, so now, we gotta find the barrel for the FSPS." I said, "Let's split up, we'll find it easier that way."

Alice laughed grabbed Elliot's hand, dragging him to another isle with my dad close behind them. I turned back to the isle and started looking.

"Anything?" I called after a few minutes.

"No," Elliot's gruff voice came from behind me.

"Not here," was my Dad's reply.

"Not since you asked us like ten seconds ago, Sale," Alice yelled from a few isles down.

I rolled my eyes, "It was not ten seconds ago." I muttered, looking back at the boxes lining the shelves. I walked down the aisle slowly, scanning the names of the different attachments. I was so focused on what I was doing that I didn't notice the two boys that were standing next to me till I bumped into the tallest one.

He completely towered over me, but everything towered over me so I didn't think much of it, I only came up to his stomach. He smiled at me when I apologized, and I was hit with an abrupt wave of déjà vu.

It was the same guy from the convenience store. He was much cuter up close, he looked about sixteen or seventeen but his eyes looked much older. He had smooth red brown skin and shaggy black hair that lay in a careless mess on top of his head. He chuckled.

"Don't worry about it," He said, in a deep husky voice. He held out his hand, "I'm Seth."

I blinked and took it, "Salem."

He held it for a moment, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand and staring at me, like he was memorizing my features. I don't know how long we stood there.

Me, staring at him with my mouth open like an idiot. And him, smiling at me

I cleared my throat and let go of his hand, turning back to the boxes awkwardly. I expected him to walk away, but he just stood there, watching me. I tried to ignore it but, his eyes followed my every move.

But then I saw it.

"Alice, Dad, Elliot!" I yelled, sliding out the box and jumping up and down, "I found it!"

I opened the box and slid the barrel out, weighing it in my hands, a huge smile plastered on my face. Alice and Elliot came in first, rounding opposite corners; Alice walking smoothly, with a strut that belonged in the runway.

"This is it, the 7337 Defender," I said as Elliot took it from me. He and Alice examined it, heads together.

Then Alice looked up a second later and glared, uncertainly, over my shoulder.

"Can I help you?" Her voice was harsh, and I turned around. Seth was still there, staring at me with a smile on his face. Elliot looked up and my dad walked around the corner.

"No we're good," a boy I hadn't noticed was pulling Seth back down the aisle, though he couldn't really be classified as a boy. He looked more like a man; a big, tall, scary, good-looking, man. They disappeared around the end of the aisle.

"Well," Elliot started, breaking the awkward silence, "That was weird."

Then he turned to me and handed over the barrel, "It looks good Sale. Let's go, I'm hungry."

I nodded and took the barrel absent mindedly. He was right, that was a bit weird. I bent down to pick up the cartridge and barrel attachment off the floor, still thinking about Seth.

I liked him. He seemed like the kind of person I could get along with.

"Come on Sale," Alice took my arm and dragged me to the cashier, "Elliot and Tyson are going to pick up food. You and I are going home."

I handed the cashier the boxes and let Alice pay for them.

I looked around absent mindedly and I saw him standing in the edge of the sports section. His friend was looking at a bunch of footballs, and Seth was looking at me.

I smiled and waved at him, his face lit up and he waved back. I laughed and Alice looked up. She followed my gaze and glared.

"I don't like him Sale," She said bluntly. I looked at her confused. She was never one to judge.

"Why?"

She grabbed my arm and gave me a little nudge out the door, "I don't know. I have a bad feeling about him. Just stay away from him."

I frowned and followed Alice out of the store.

I saw Elliot's mustang pull out of the parking lot and I slipped into my car as Seth and his friend walked out of the store.

"Salem, wait." He called, running up to my window. I lowered the glass he handed me a piece of paper. It looked like the end of a receipt. "Call me." He said as his friend pulled him down the street. I looked down and sure enough his number was written hastily in black ink.

"I have a weird feeling about him Sale."

I looked at her incredulously, "What?"

She was staring out my window at Seth's retreating figure, "I don't know it's just a feeling. I could be over reacting, but it's weird."

I sighed and started the car, sliding the paper in my pocket, "I'm gonna call him."

Alice laughed as I pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, "Of course you are. Good luck, this boy is treading some serious water. Going after you," She chuckled and shook her head, "I almost feel bad for him."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. We spent the drive home listening to music and laughing about nonsense. But our happiness was short lived.

A police siren rang through the air, Alice cursed, and red and blue lights flashed in my rear view window.

I sighed and slowed the car down. So much for keeping a low profile

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